


at least as deep as the pacific ocean

by loushazza (noblydonedonnanoble)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Parents, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Famous Harry, M/M, Non-Famous Louis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:01:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblydonedonnanoble/pseuds/loushazza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Harry is a musician and a budding music producer, but more importantly, he is a single dad whose daughter is starting school. Louis is her teacher, and they hit it off immediately.</p><p>Also, Niall is Harry's best friend in the business and unofficial live-in nanny; Zayn is an artist and Louis' roommate.</p><p>(Rated M for eventually)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

                As alarming as it may be, Harry’s baby girl is growing up.

                Granted, she’s only three years old and all he’s doing is sending her off for her first day of nursery school, but he can’t help feeling like this is the beginning of something much more daunting, and much more terrifying.

                (God, he’s seen too many coming-of-age films.)

                He glances back at her in his rearview mirror and asks, “Are you excited for your first day of school, Holly?”

                “Yes, Daddy!” she exclaims, kicking her feet and beaming at the reflection of his eyes.

                It might be easier to part with Holly if she weren’t so damn happy that she’ll no longer be spending her days with him. Not that he’d rather have one of those kids who kicks and screams and sulks for the whole first week because they’d rather be at home. But y’know, some kind of happy medium might be nice. A few tears, an admission that she’s a bit scared, something to that effect.

                “I’m glad to hear it,” he tells her. And he is, he really is, because he knows that his little girl is going to take the world by storm.

                When they reach their destination, Harry goes to help Holly out of the car and reflexively leans in to pick her up and hoist her into his arms to carry her inside, but she informs him, “No, I wanna walk.”

                And he wilts a little bit, but tries not to let it show, because of course she probably just wants to look like a big kid.

                She still immediately grabs for his hand, which keeps his smile on his face. Maybe she’s a bit nervous after all.

                Several of the other children and their parents have already arrived, and amidst the mayhem, it’s difficult to pick out who the teacher is. Harry received an information packet on the school, and he knows that there was a mention of the teacher… but all he can remember is that it was supposed to be a man, and there are quite a few of those around.

                “Hello, are you here for the three-year-old class?”

                Harry spins on his heel to seek out the source of the phantom voice, and has to look down to meet the gaze of a smiling man who only looks to be a few years older than Harry is—twenty-nine, Harry thinks, at the _most_.

                “Oh, hi!” Harry says dumbly. Distracted by the bloke’s handsome features, by his cool blue eyes and dark hair that looks soft to the touch. “I… yes, that’s right. Yeah. This is Holly. You’re the teacher?”

                “That would be me. I’m Louis.” He reaches out his hand.

                “I’m Harry.” He accepts the handshake, and tries not to think about how smooth Louis’ hand is. He holds on a bit longer than might be deemed appropriate, but Louis is still smiling so Harry figures that it’s fine. Then he gestures to his daughter. “And this is Holly.”

                “Yes, we covered that bit.”

                “Right, of course,” Harry mumbles to himself. A faint blush grows across his cheeks but Louis has directed his focus to Holly, crouching down and greeting her.

                “Hello Holly, I’m Louis, your new teacher.” He sticks out his hand to her too, and she giggles as they shake, her whole hand wrapping around only three of his fingers. “Are you excited to start school?”

                She nods. “But I’m gonna miss going to the studio with Daddy.”

                Harry’s heart jumps and as the two of them look up at him, he rushes to say, “I’ll miss it too, but I’ll still bring you all the time on the weekends, okay?”

                “Yeah.”

                He crouches down too. His knee bumps Louis’ and he swallows, tries to just look his daughter in the eye. “Now why don’t you give me a hug before you go to play with the other kids?”

                He doesn’t have to ask twice. She immediately reaches for him, burying her face in his neck and holding onto him tightly. Well, maybe she’s going to miss him after all.

                “Niall and I will be here to pick you up right after school,” Harry promises as soon as she lets go.

                 “Okay. Bye bye, Daddy.”

                Harry and Louis both rise to their full heights as she runs off towards the play area, where a majority of the other children are congregated.

                “So Niall’s your… partner, then?”

                It takes a moment for Harry to wrap his mind around the question, and as soon as he does, he snorts. “Niall? My partner? No, no, he’s just a mate. He might be here to pick Holly up when I’m really busy.”

                “Oh, good, alright.” Louis nods.

                “Good?”

                Louis’ eyes widen ever so slightly. “Yeah, I mean, good for me to know who else might be coming to fetch her, so that I don’t just hand her off to some random stranger.”

                Right, of course, that makes sense. Why would Harry even bother to imagine that his daughter’s new attractive teacher would care whether he’s taken? But his mouth seems to have a mind of his own and he blurts, “Yeah, Niall’s definitely not a stranger, sometimes it’s like I’ve got two kids instead of one. Or like I’ve got a live-in nanny. Which is a relief when I’m busy since otherwise it’d just be me.”

                Just in case he does want to know.

                For a moment it seems like Louis is going to say something, but then some child’s mother is tapping him on the shoulder, saying, “Excuse me, are you Mr. Tomlinson?”

                And so Louis smiles graciously at Harry. “It was wonderful to meet you.”

                “Yeah, you too,” Harry murmurs faintly. As Louis turns away, Harry takes the opportunity to look him up and down, appreciating his slight figure.

                The moment he’s back in his car, he pulls out his phone.

                “Harry! I was just about to call you.”

                Well, this can’t be good. “Dare I ask why?”

                “Just because I’m so hurt that you didn’t leave any bacon for me. You know I like bacon.”

                “Niall, I will start leaving bacon for you when you start paying rent to sleep in my guest room nearly every night.”

                “But—”

                Harry rolls his eyes. “We’re not talking about this right now, it’s not why I called.”

                “Why did you call? Is something wrong? Holly didn’t get upset when you dropped her off, did she?”

                “No, she was fine. I just have a problem.”

                A loud crunching sound comes over the phone as Niall begins to eat what Harry can only assume is cereal. He hopes that it’s cereal, at least, because there’s hardly any food in the house and if it’s not cereal, there’s a chance that Niall is attempting to consume the furniture. “What’s the problem?” Words distorted by chewing.

                “Her teacher is fucking fit.”

                “Did you make a fool of yourself?”

                “Not really.” Not as much as he could have. If that other parent hadn’t intervened, he probably would have shot his mouth off even more.

                “Then why is it a problem? Flirt with him. Get his number. Weren’t you just saying a few days ago that you want to get out there and start dating again? It sounds like great timing to me.”

                Harry lets out a massive sigh. Of course Niall would think it’s that easy. He meets people all over the place, chats them up like it’s nothing. “I don’t even know if he was interested.”

                “Did he seem to recognize you?” Niall asks.

                Did he? Harry had been so enamored that he hadn’t really bothered to check. “He didn’t seem… surprised,” Harry says slowly. “But you know, I picked this school for Holly because a lot of celebrities send their kids there, so he’s probably used to just carrying on like it isn’t a big deal.”

                “He totally didn’t recognize you,” Niall says, and Harry can hear the delight in his voice. And then, as a new thought seems to occur to him, his tone changes to one of concern. “Is it because he’s old? Is that why he doesn’t know you? Because I would like to take this opportunity to remind you that you swore off older blokes.”

                “No! I’d be surprised if he were thirty. So what if he doesn’t know me? He’s not exactly in my target demographic.”

                “I bet you’d win him over in a second if you told him about the way teenage girls swoon over you. Oh, and their mothers. Can’t forget their mothers.”

                It is with great relief that, at this moment, Harry pulls into a parking spot in the lot beneath his manager’s office. “Nialler, as much as I’d love to hear more of your delightful jokes about my fans, I’m five minutes late for a meeting. I’ll swing by the house around half two so we can fetch Holly and take her to the park before we go to do the shopping.”

                “Yes! Does this mean I get to meet the fit teacher?”

                “ _Goodbye_ , Niall.” Harry can hear Niall chuckling in the second that it takes him to hang up the phone.

                If only Harry were better at picking up on other people’s signals.

                As he waits in the elevator going up to the office, he’s already coming up with a list of excuses for reasons to talk to Louis more, to give him more opportunities to figure it out. Hopefully he won’t embarrass himself in the process.


	2. Chapter 2

                “ _Zayn_ ,” Louis calls out as he pushes open the front door to their flat.

                “ _Louis_ ,” his roommate responds immediately from somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchen.

                Louis drops his bag and his jacket on the sofa on his way to join Zayn, whom he finds sitting at the table eating some leftover Chinese takeaway from the night before. “I’m a fucking mess,” Louis informs him as he slumps down in a chair.

                “That you are.”He’s already prepared himself for whatever Louis intends to throw at him—a balled-up napkin from the table—and chuckles as he swats it away easily. “Why, what did you do this time?”

                “I met someone.”

                “Oh, did you?” Zayn leans forward in his seat eagerly. “Tell me everything.”

                “I don’t really know much.”

                “What do you know?”

                Louis stares at the table. “Um, his name is Harry.”

                Zayn nods approvingly. “Good name.”

                “He’s tall…”

                “You like tall.”

                “He’s got a daughter in my class…” Louis trails off, glancing up to watch Zayn’s expression.

                But Zayn just starts to laugh. “Is that all? Christ, Lou, I expected it to be something worse.”

                Louis glowers, and his friend immediately goes quiet. “This isn’t funny. It’s not against the rules to date a parent, but it’s kind of frowned upon. And not just because half of them are famous.”

                “Oh shit, I didn’t even think of that! Did you recognize him?” Louis shakes his head. “Do you think he might be famous, though?”

                “He might be,” Louis says slowly. “His daughter mentioned him working in a studio.”

                “So either he’s an artist or he’s famous.” A pause. “You could always just google him.”

                “I’m not going to google him!”

                “But aren’t you curious?”

                “Not enough to stalk him on the internet.”

                Zayn blinks at him. “What’s his last name? Maybe I’ll recognize it.”

                “You’re just going to look him up yourself and keep dropping hints about who he is. No, we’re not doing that.”

                “You’re no fun,” Zayn grumbles. “Did he seem to like you, though?”

                Louis smiles fondly as he thinks back to the meeting. “I think he might’ve. He seemed pretty intent on letting me know that he was single. But I wasn’t exactly trying to be subtle and he didn’t seem to pick up on my signals so honestly it’s hard to say for sure.”

                “Figures you’d find someone even more oblivious than you are.”

                “I take offense to that.”

                “Yes. You should. It’s offensive.”

                Louis sticks his tongue out at Zayn before snatching one of the takeaway containers from the table and picking out a piece of chicken with his fingers to eat.

                “What if you asked his daughter what he does?”

                “No, Zayn!”

                “Just an idea…”

                “Maybe I should just try to get to know him normally instead.”

                Zayn shrugs. “I mean, I guess you could do that, but it sure sounds like an awful lot of work.”

                “I’m willing to make that sacrifice.”

                For much of the evening, Zayn pokes fun of Louis for his newfound crush, and occasionally tries to sneak in questions regarding Harry’s last name—which Louis consistently dodges. Finally, he retreats to his own room for some peace and quiet, but left to his own devices, he remains antsy. He lies awake for hours, his thoughts full of the young, handsome man with the long brown hair and the grin that made his heart flip.

                A week of classes follow in quite the same fashion: Louis tries his best to flirt with Harry as much as is manageable in their two-minute chats before and after school. Harry is all wide eyes and wide smiles but he doesn’t seem to be able to take the hint that Louis wants him.

                Because Christ, Louis does want him. Every day when he sees that man traipse into the classroom, he takes in his outrageous outfits—because he always seems to be wearing loud florals and shoes that could only possibly go with _one_ shirt—and his long hair and his listless smile as he bids farewell to his daughter… and then his wide grin when he greets her again.

                It’s enough to charm anyone, and that’s before he even opens his mouth and his sunny disposition begins to shine through. Louis comes home from work every day and has to think very hard to remember much beyond his brief interactions with Harry.

                Zayn teases him extensively for his crush, and reminds him daily that he could find out plenty about this bloke by just doing a quick search online. But Louis refuses, intent to learn everything from the man himself. Even if he is a famous actor or rockstar or something.

                The weekend sucks. Zayn drags him to a football match on Saturday but Louis can’t focus because everywhere he looks, he could swear he sees Harry in the crowd. An absurd notion, but he just can’t shake it. Sunday night, as he lies tossing and turning in bed, he decides: he’s going to do it. He’s going to hit on Harry and pray that it doesn’t become supremely awkward if things go wrong.

                The next morning he wakes Zayn, who doesn’t have to be up for nearly two hours. Before his friend gains enough awareness to throw anything, Louis informs him, “I’ve decided I should give him my mobile number.”

                Zayn leaves his face buried in his pillow. “If I open my eyes and this place isn’t on fire, I swear I will make you cook your own dinner tonight.”

                “We both know there _would_ be a fire if I tried to cook. I’m telling you that I’m going to make a fool of myself and hit on a parent in the second week of term. It will be an immensely uncomfortable couple of months if he’s not interested. Aren’t you going to try to talk me out of it?”

                “No.”

                “Oh.” Louis hesitates. “Are you sure?”

                “Fuck off; I’m not playing devil’s advocate at 7 in the morning.”

                Louis gives up when Zayn sleepily schleps a pillow his way, nearly hitting him in the face.

                He talks to himself on the drive to work. “It’ll be just fine,” he tells himself. Over and over. He even throws in a, “He would be mad not to want you,” because that’s what his mum would say and he could use her gentle encouragement right now.

                God, he’s reverted to his schoolboy days all because of this bloke.

                Harry is among the first parents to arrive that morning, which is probably for the best, because it means less time for Louis to talk himself out of it. He’s giving Holly a piggy-back ride when they come in, and it’s absolutely adorable.

                “Hi, Louis,” he says, a warm grin on his face. “Holly was particularly excited for class today so she insisted on leaving extra early.”

                 “It means school’ll start sooner,” she explains to Louis, as though this is the most obvious thing in the world.

                “Makes sense,” Louis agrees with a nod and a laugh.

                Harry sets her down on the ground and she’s off and running, shouting her goodbye back to her father as she goes.

                “We’re starting show and tell today, that’s probably what she’s looking forward to,” Louis informs Harry as soon as Holly is gone.

                “That would explain why she snuck into my wardrobe to steal my scarves. I found her yesterday afternoon, trying to stuff all of them into her backpack.”

                “Just to cement the visual, how many scarves are we talking, here?”

                “Y’know.” Harry shrugs. “Maybe fifty. Sixty at most.”

                “Oh right, just sixty, that’s all.” Louis laughs but it comes out sounding more like a giggle.

                The sound seems to surprise Harry and he smiles wider. “Yeah. I got her to narrow it down and that’s the one she’s wearing right now.” The two men glance over her way, taking in the scarf that, when wrapped around her neck, comes down almost to her knees. She looks so happy. Blimey, Harry’s a wonderful dad.

                “Thanks, I try.”

                _Shit_. He fucking said that aloud. But Harry doesn’t seem to be bothered. At the very least, he’s still grinning.

                “Yeah, well it shows.” Just give him your number Louis, just do it already.

                Harry watches Louis for a few moments, as if waiting to see whether he has anything else to say, but Louis finds himself at a loss for words. “Well, I suppose I should head off,” Harry says slowly. “I have a meeting this afternoon so Niall will be coming for Holly. You remember him, yeah?”

                “Uh, yeah, your blond friend,” Louis says dumbly. No, he can’t leave before Louis’ even worked up the nerve to hit on him. How rude.

                “That would be him. I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.”

                And it takes him until Harry’s turned his back to walk out the door but finally Louis blurts, “Hang on, Harry. I, um…” He tugs a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket, on which he’s already written his number, and he thrusts it out to Harry. “I wanted to give you this.”

                “A ball of paper? For me?” Harry jokes. But as he unfurls it his expression changes and he blinks down at the page. “Oh.”

                Immediately, Louis is convinced that he’s made an enormous mistake. “I mean, only if you, y’know, uh—”

                “I’ll text you so you can have my number too,” Harry interrupts the poor man’s stammering, a wide smile on his face once again.

                “Yeah?” Relief floods Louis’ voice. “That would… that would be cool.”

                “Alright. I guess we’ll talk later, then.”

                “I guess so.” They share a lingering smile before Harry lifts his hand to wave, and then turns and walks out the door. Louis stares after him fondly, willing his heartbeat to slow down to a relatively normal pace. It refuses.


	3. Chapter 3

                Harry is stuck in the studio for a large portion of the day, and then he has to go across the city to do a radio interview to discuss his upcoming album. By the time he arrives home that evening, it’s nearly Holly’s bedtime. Niall has, thankfully, fed her and kept her entertained with children’s television until Harry could make it home to tuck her in personally.

                “Honey, I’m home!” he shouts as he traipses inside. From upstairs, he faintly hears his daughter’s delighted shout of, “Daddy!”

                She meets him at the top of the steps and hugs him eagerly as he asks, “Did Niall take good care of you?”

                “Mhm. We played dress up and he made me mac and cheese and then we watched the telly.”

                “Sounds like a good night. Do you want to tell me about the fun things you did at school while we get you ready for bed?”

                Holly perks up immediately and begins to describe the events of her day with great enthusiasm, devoting particular attention to the great reception that Harry’s scarf received at her show and tell. All of the children were thrilled by the smooth fabric and intrigued by the idea that Harry did something as revolutionary as tie it around his head.

                He smiles tenderly as he sits perched on her bed, pulling her covers up and reading through a quick bedtime story. He kisses her forehead, tucks her hair back. “I’m really glad you like school, Holly.” Even if it does mean she isn’t too bothered at the thought of parting with Harry every day.

                “My friends there are really nice. Also Louis, I like Louis. Don’t you think he’s nice?”

                “Yeah, I think so.”

                Harry bids her goodnight one last time before clicking off the light and going out to join Niall in the kitchen.

                “How was your day, sweetie?” Niall asks, his mouth full of pasta.

                “It was excellent. You won’t believe what I got.”

                “What?”

                Rather than answering, Harry slams the scrap of paper with Louis’ number down onto the table before heading over to the fridge to retrieve something to eat.

                “I don’t…” Niall peers at the digits, then quickly swallows so that he can speak. “Hang on, is this a mobile number?”

                “Three guesses whose.”

                “Shit! Really? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

                A far-off smile from Harry as he pauses in the middle of constructing a turkey sandwich. “I guess I just wanted to keep the news to myself for a bit.”

                “God, you’re such a loser. Well, I’m glad you finally asked for it.”

                “That’s the thing! I didn’t even have to; he just gave it to me. It was difficult for me to tell because I was a bit busy doing backflips in my head but I think he might have actually been a bit nervous about it.”

                Niall snickers. “You thought he looked nervous? Now that’s saying something.”

                 Now Harry is the one to speak with his mouth full. “Wha’s that s’pose to mean?”

                “Oh, nothing. It’s just that you’ve been trying to get up the nerve to ask him out since the moment you met him, so if he seemed nervous to _you_ …”

                “Very funny,” Harry mumbles, not wanting to admit that he kind of sees Niall’s point.

                “When are you going to call him?”

                Harry glances up at the clock. “Well, I was thinking after I finished my sandwich.”

                “Really?”

                “Sure, it’s not that late.”

                “No, no, I don’t mean that, just…” Niall shrugs. “Day of? I don’t know, aren’t you worried it’s a bit quick?”

                A pause as Harry considers the question. “No, not really.”

                “Well, alright then. I’ll just go and watch Strictly, leave you in here to make a valiant attempt at flirting.”

                “Hey, I can flirt!” Harry shouts. Niall just laughs.

                Harry leans against the counter, pulling his phone out of his pocket and scrolling through his contacts until he reaches Louis’ name. He’s entered him in as just ‘Lou’, which is already what Harry’s made a habit of calling him in his head. Only in his head. So far, at least.

                He stares at the name, biting his lip as he tries to talk himself into just fucking calling—which he was completely prepared to do before Niall jumped in and suggested that he should play hard-to-get, at least a little.

                But that’s just not Harry, and he knows that Niall knows that. If he likes someone, he makes no effort to keep it from them.

                So he dials.

                Louis picks up on the third ring, in the middle of a yawn as he says, “Hullo?”

                “Hi, it’s Harry.”

                “Oh! Hi! This is… would you hang on a second?” Harry can hear a slight scuffling through the phone; a fair amount of whispering; further scuffling, followed finally by a door closing. “Sorry, my roommate was watching a film and I didn’t want to bother him by chattering away on the phone.”

                “Totally understandable.”

                “Yeah, so. Um. Hi.”

                And Harry grins, despite the fact that Louis can’t see him. “Hi.”

                “I have to say, this is a bit of a surprise.”

                “Not a bad surprise, I hope.”

                Louis chuckles lightly. “No, no, definitely a good surprise. I’m just used to waiting around longer after giving my number out.”

                “Why should I make you wait? I don’t think I could stand it anymore than you.” He can feel the blush creeping up his neck.

                “Yeah?”

                “Yeah. And I spent all day trying to come up with a good excuse to call you but I couldn’t so I figured I’d just do it anyway, just to chat. Since as it stands right now, I’m pretty sure my daughter knows more about you than I do.”

                “What? That can’t be right.”

                “No, no, it is, I’ve even compiled a list. ‘Facts I Know About Holly’s Fit Teacher’.”

                Louis snorts. “You have not.”

                Harry looks down at the floor bashfully. “Well, no, of course I haven’t. But if I tried, it wouldn’t be a very long list. Mostly just that you’ve got a cute bum.”

                “But isn’t that enough?”

                “No. I’d like to hear your life story.” And he’s only partially kidding.

                It takes Louis only a beat to respond, but the pause stretches on forever in Harry’s mind as he worries whether he’s crossed the line, worries whether he’s said something too serious after all of their casual conversations. His moment of panic is punctuated by Louis’ hopeful suggestion of, “I could tell you all about it over dinner this weekend. If you like.”

                “Yeah,” Harry breathes. “I’d like that a lot.”

                “Really? Okay, that’s, uh… that sounds great. What night would work best for you?”

                “We could do Fri—hang on, no, that won’t work. Holly and I’ll be at my mum’s Friday and Saturday night. What about Sunday?”

                Louis sighs. “I can’t do Sunday, my sister’s coming to town for the day to see me and she wouldn’t like it if I bailed on her for the evening.”

                “You’ve got a sister?”

                “Try four.”

                “Four sisters,” Harry echoes, marveling at the idea. “I’ve just got one; I can’t imagine what four would be like.”

                “Well, let’s just say that I learned early on that I’m exceptional with nail varnish.”

                “Yeah? You’ll have to show me some day and do mine.”

                The two continue to chat for nearly an hour and a half, during which time they manage to settle on an evening for dinner, although both men are disappointed by the tremendous amount of time that lies between them and their date. They talk about their hometowns and their families, mostly, and Harry does his best to avoid bringing up his career. He’s still not sure whether Louis knows who he is or what he does, but he has the uncanny feeling that he doesn’t and there’s something appealing to him about just being unknown for once.

                They reach a brief lull in conversation, and for a moment Harry is going to take it as a sign that they should bring the phone call to a close. But then a thought occurs, and he says slowly, “It won’t be weird for you, will it? Going on a date with the parent of one of your students?”

                “Why, are you worried it’ll be weird to go on a date with your daughter’s teacher?”

                “No.”

                “Good. Neither am I.”

                Harry nods to himself, although he knows that Louis can’t see him. “Okay. But I still think we should… I mean, with Holly…”

                “Mum’s the word,” Louis interjects. “Of course. I figured as much. That’s… that’s not something you should take lightly.”

                “I’m glad you understand,” Harry murmurs.

                 “It may well surprise you, but I do understand some things about young children.”

                “Shocking.”

                Louis chuckles before saying, “I should probably go. My roommate needs my car tomorrow so I have to get an early start in the morning.”

                “I could give you a ride,” Harry offers, before he can think better of it.

                “Oh, is _that_ what you meant by subtle?”

                “Sure,” Harry agrees with a smirk. “I see no problem with a friendly drive to work.”

                “I don’t live particularly close to the school,” Louis warns.

                “Even better. We’ll be able to have a nice chat on the drive over.”

                This makes Louis laugh again, and after a moment he says, “Alright. I’ll send you my address, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

                “See you tomorrow,” Harry breathes. The prospect of spending more than a few minutes in Louis’ company is exhilarating, even if it’ll just be in the car. Even if their actual date has to wait.


	4. Chapter 4

                Louis wakes up at six o’clock in the morning.

                He spends nearly half an hour attempting to drift off again, but there’s a fluttering of excitement—or anxiety?—in his stomach that refuses to dissipate no matter how hard he tries to push it away.

                Finally he acknowledges the fact that he won’t be falling asleep anytime soon, and he heaves himself out of bed to prepare something for breakfast.

                While nibbling at a piece of toast, he rifles though his wardrobe in search of something to wear for his date. Because it does feel like a date. A date that simply involves a car ride and spending time with his date’s young daughter, but a date nonetheless. He’s anxious about making the right impression, about whether or not Harry will think he looks handsome, about how Holly will react to his presence.

                Honestly, he just doesn’t own anything that’s appropriate for this sort of occasion.

                He tries on a good twenty outfits before settling on something, and he’s tempted to go and wake Zayn to get a second opinion on his clothes. But before he has a chance to do so, his mobile is going off.

“Hi!” Harry exclaims the moment that Louis picks up. He sounds incredibly eager and it makes Louis’ heartbeat quicken. “Holly and I are outside.”

                What? Outside already? Either Harry’s incredibly early or Louis _really_ lost track of time.

                He glances down at the clock on his phone and it seems as though it’s a little bit of both.

                “Sounds great,” Louis rushes to say, scrambling to tuck everything into his bag as he speaks.

                Harry is parked right outside, and when Louis tentatively opens the passenger-side door, he is immediately confronted by an upbeat, poppy tune to which Harry is drumming his hands on the steering wheel. He turns his head sharply at the sound of the door opening, and immediately a wide grin lights up his face.

                Good God, he’s stunning.

                “Louis, good to see you,” he says, his voice soft and warm.

                “Hello, Harry.” He glances back as he buckles himself in and gives Harry’s daughter a winning smile. “Good morning, Holly.”

                “Louis!” She blinks at him curiously. “Daddy, why is Louis here? We see Louis at school.”

                Harry laughs. “We talked about this at breakfast, love, remember? I was talking to Louis and he said he wouldn’t have a car today, so I offered to pick him up.”

                “Which you shouldn’t have done, by the way,” Louis adds.

                “Yes, I definitely should have.” His smile carries all the way up to his eyes as he looks over to Louis again, and his gaze lingers.

                Louis doesn’t mind; he could stare into those eyes forever and it wouldn’t be long enough.

                “Thank you,” he murmurs.

                Holly, completely oblivious to the lengthy gaze being shared by the two men, claims her father’s attention so that she can tell him a joke. Even as Harry looks away, Louis keeps his eyes on him.

                Harry’s enthusiasm for his daughter’s ramblings is entirely genuine; he laughs at all the right times, asks the right questions, and by all appearances, he’s just as attentive to her words as he is to Louis’. There’s none of the condescension that so many parents are unable to hide (or don’t bother to hide).

                It’s a sight to behold and Louis, far from feeling left out, is touched by Harry’s sincerity.

                “Hey!” Quite suddenly, Harry starts, and leans forward to turn up the volume on the car stereo. “Holly, you were there with me when worked on this song in the studio, remember?”

                Louis had been tuning out the music, but now he begins to listen with a newfound curiosity. It’s a bit more poppy than he’d probably listen to on a regular basis but the instrumental is lovely—it’s definitely a tune that he could see getting stuck in his head.

                When the voice comes in, though, Louis is confused; if he didn’t know better, he’d guess that that’s a woman.

                “That’s not you singing?” he asks curiously.

                “Oh, no, no,” Harry says. He’s chuckling a bit. “That’s one of my clients. I just produced this track. She’s got a lovely voice, though, hasn’t she?”

                “Yeah…” Louis agrees. And she really has. As they listen, she hits a high note and goosepimples rise up on his arms. “Is that what you do, then? Produce music?”

                Harry shrugs casually. “Well, yeah, I guess. When I’m not playing it.”

                Louis’ landed himself a famous musician. Zayn is going to have a field day when he finds out.

                Although Louis’s thoughts are racing, he remains completely calm and collected. “You play too! Are you a rockstar?”

                The question seems to take Harry by surprise and he laughs loudly. “Not quite the word I’d use. Most of my music is directed toward a younger set, so there’s not much rock ‘n roll involved.”

                A smirk spreads across Louis’ features. “Are you a teen heartthrob?”

                “No.” But Harry’s response is too sharp and too quick.

                Louis’ eyes light up and a giggle escapes him because the image of Harry as a heartthrob seems so incongruous with the eccentric, loving father image that he’s got in his mind. “That’s so lovely. Can I hear some of your music?”

                “I… You want to?”

                “Yeah, one of your favorites, go on.”

                Harry hesitates, seemingly trying to figure out whether Louis is legitimately interested. Something about his smile must convince him, because Harry lights up too. “Okay. Hang on just a mo.”

                He flips through a small collection of CD cases, all of which are stored in a small compartment below the player. Louis finds himself temporarily transfixed by Harry’s long, slender fingers. His hand would fit quite nice with Louis’. Probably. Most likely. Louis thinks so, at least.

                “I think this one is my favorite,” Harry says carefully, and Louis’ eyes snap up to meet Harry’s gentle gaze. Harry quickly directs his full attention back to the road, but even though Harry’s no longer looking his way, Louis can still feel himself being scrutinized as the song begins.

                It starts off with some casual strumming guitar, a soft drum beat and bass… pretty mellow. He could easily imagine listening to this sort of thing to wind down while doing paperwork in the afternoons once the students have gone home.

                “Obviously this isn’t one of the songs we would use for a single,” Harry says carefully. “Those are more upbeat, but—”

                The vocals come in and Louis immediately cuts him off, shushing him and leaning forward to listen.

                “You sound like an angel,” he murmurs halfway through the chorus. Not wanting to cover up the music but unable to suppress the urge to gush over Harry’s voice any longer.

                And he really could gush, because Harry sings so warm and smooth and it’s the kind of voice that could probably stop world wars if need be. No one could stay cross after listening to that voice.

                “You’re just trying to make me blush,” Harry retorts with a soft chuckle.

                “No, no, I mean it!” Louis hesitates for a moment before adding a quiet, “If my only goal was to make you blush, there are plenty of other things I could have said.”

                He watches as Harry’s cheeks tint an even deeper pink, and as he smiles at the road. “Thanks, Lou.”

                When Louis doesn’t answer right away, Harry glances over at him quickly and rushes to ask, “Is that alright? If I call you Lou?”

                “Of course it’s alright. Harold.”

                Harry giggles and nods.

                After a brief pause, Louis muses, “I wonder if any of my sisters listen to your music. And how they’d react if they found out I know the great teen heartthrob—”

                “ _Louis_ …” Harry sounds almost whiny and Louis smirks, pleased. It seems it’s going to be very easy to tease him.

                They arrive rather early, to a practically empty car park, and Louis immediately feels the need to postpone Harry’s departure for as long as possible. Harry seems to be thinking along the same lines, because the three of them walk at a snail’s pace as they head inside. Louis opens up the empty classroom, throwing open some windows to air it out and clicking on the lights, and Harry lingers near the doorway, evidently unsure of what he should do next.

                So Louis makes the decision for him, calling to him from across the room. “Harry, d’you think you could help me pull out the art supplies for the morning art project?”

                Harry jumps to attention immediately and looks surprised, but very pleased. “Oh, sure. I can do that.”

                “Cool. All the rooms link up to a supply closet, just over there.” He gestures to a closed door. “It should only take a minute, Holly would probably be alright on her own.”

                “Okay. Holly, love?” Harry crouches down beside his daughter, who has already selected a puzzle from the play area and is entertaining herself. “Louis needs my help to fetch some things for class, so we’re going to leave you alone for a minute. But we’ll be right through that door if you need us, okay?”

                “Okay, Daddy.” She nods agreeably and immediately redirects her focus to her puzzle.

                Harry stands up again and meanders toward Louis, who is waiting by the closet. “Lead the way.”

                The door leads to a long, narrow hallway with a multitude of shelves, which are full to bursting with various supplies. More than once, Harry nearly trips on a box that’s lying sideways on the floor.

                When Louis stops abruptly, Harry bumps into him, causing them both to giggle. “Oops,” Harry mumbles.

                Louis turns around to face him and looks up, grinning. “Hi.”

                “Hi.”

                “How are you?”

                “Lovely. You?”

                “I’m great. I just found out I’ve got a date with a teen heartthrob.”

                Harry blushes again. “Do you intend to stop doing that any time in the near future?”

                “It’s doubtful.”

                “Alright, that’s good to know.”

                Louis is the epitome of smug as Harry leans down and kisses him softly. They’re both smiling too wide and the kiss is not particularly remarkable, but they linger there for some moments, Louis resting his hands at Harry’s hips and standing up on his tiptoes to minimize the distance between them.

                When Harry finally pulls back a few inches, their eyes meet and they’re both quiet, until Louis mutters, “I just kissed a teen heartthrob.”

                Harry laughs appreciatively. “Yes, you did. Now show me these art supplies you needed help with.”

                When they return to the classroom, arms laden down with materials for arts and crafts, Holly is still playing contentedly by herself. The two men set down the supplies and Louis watches as Harry goes over to his daughter and bids her farewell.

                “I guess I’ll see you this afternoon?” Louis calls to him.

                “I guess you will.” Harry actually salutes him before turning to leave. Good Lord, he’s a dork.

                Louis is positively done for.


End file.
